


A Lesson Learned

by eurydice72



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/pseuds/eurydice72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has to train a newly-vamped William.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson Learned

**Author's Note:**

> Set pre-canon. Originally written for joss_las at LJ. The prompt was to write about Spike's past.

He cannot see, but he can hear and he can smell and William thinks he can almost taste as Angelus feasts on the whore’s quim. She would not have been his first choice, but according to Angelus, it was not his decision to make.

_“You’re just to watch, boy,” he warns with a twist of his lips. There are impish glints in his dark eyes, and he leans forward until his nose is only a spare inch from William’s. He can smell the whiskey and blood on Angelus’ breath, and it makes his mouth water. “Drusilla’s been slacking with your lessons. If you’re to be of any good to me at all, you’ll keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. Do you understand me?”_

He understands. He doesn’t say a word during the entire trip to the pub, nor in the hour it takes Angelus to decide upon a victim. William is not entirely certain he grasps the lesson to be learned here, but watching the other vampire is a secret joy. He is all too aware that he could have been left forgotten back at the hotel, and instead, Angelus chose to bring him out. So he does as he is told, even after they slip out the back with the barmaid Angelus has selected. Because he has not been left behind.

An unexpected cry of pain draws William’s feet forward, around the corner, out of the shadows and into the murk behind the pub where Angelus has taken the whore. She leans against the wall, her skirts shoved up around her waist, with her fingers entangled in the dark hair of the vampire kneeling between her legs. He can hear her fading heartbeat, and knows from the growing pallor of her skin that she lingers on the brink of death. Still, the scent of her sex is strong, and William grows hard within the space of a single blink, but it is not the promise of taking her that does it. It is Angelus, pulling back, turning to face him that thrills William the most.

His fanged mouth shines beneath the moonlight, blood and the juice of her arousal coating his lips and chin. Where the whore’s skirts are pushed up, William can see the streaks of scarlet running down her thighs and wonders how it is such things could have existed without his knowledge. He has always considered himself a learned man; he is only beginning to understand that there is a wealth of information out in the world yet to be had.

In his head, Angelus corrects him.

“To be _taken_ , boy.”

Angelus rises to his feet, nodding for William to come closer. Already, Angelus is working the buttons of his breeches, holding the whore in place as her body slumps against the wall. By the time William reaches his side, he is already thrusting inside her, pushing her hair out of the way to expose the pale column of her neck.

“Just watch,” he says.

William has to stuff his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out, to her, to him, to either body, but he can’t stop his fangs from descending, and he can’t stop the compulsive swallowing as he watches Angelus drink her down. Just one taste, he can’t help but think. How could one taste mar whatever lesson he is supposed to learn?

But Angelus denies him, the hard pulls at the whore’s blood growing audible as a thin red line dribbles from the side of his mouth. William is convinced he does that on purpose. He has seen the other vampire feed before. He is not normally so careless.

It is not until much later that he realizes that was the very first time he ever hated Angelus.

When he is done, Angelus tosses the drained body to the side, ignoring the way the girl’s dress rides up around her bloody thighs. Instinctively, William moves to cover her, but the sudden vise grip around his throat, the painful impact of the wall behind his back, stop him.

“I told you only to watch,” Angelus warns. He wipes away some of the blood clinging to his lower lip and looks at it for a moment on his thumb before swiping it across William’s mouth. Then he grins again and lets William go, stuffing himself back into his pants and buttoning up. “Now let’s get out of here.”

He follows, hungry and eager and wondering what the lesson was that he was supposed to have learned. He doesn’t ask questions, though. If it looks as if he hasn’t mastered whatever it is that Angelus intended to impart, William knows the penalty will be stiff.

As they climb into the hansom Angelus hails, it occurs to him that perhaps this is the ultimate point of the lesson. He hides his grin. He was always an excellent student.


End file.
